


The Buck

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "The fawn will cry for his mother or a buck larger than life to save him."[TWs: CSA and Rape, please read with caution]





	The Buck

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story on Nick's past. Please, if you're sensitive to graphic details relating to CSA, Rape, and Child abuse please do not read.

 

  _ **The Buck**_

* * *

  
_A wolf- one that comes only in the winter- feasts on a young fawn with no buck to protect him._

The fawn is weak.

Small and frail and _oh so_ easy to capture by the tail tuft. A wolf snagging him back into the depths of a cold forest and stripping him bare. Peeling down to the flesh, to the bone, to the soul, and to whatever came after that. The fawn, hardly able to stand, will cry for his mother or a buck larger than life to save him. But, as canine teeth etched deep scars into his young psyche, he will eventually realize that there is no way out of this dirty dog ritual.

The fawn will lose his voice.

The wolf digs deeper.

He remembers the years spent deep in the forest, clawing at the earth and crying silently as the predator feasted on his mortal body. How relentless the wolf was in his efforts to ruin something as pure as a newborn fawn.

And he would always win in this game of defilement.

Oh, and how the wolf knew him well. After the deed was done, he'd always whisper into the fawn's scattered form-

_This is our little secret._

And the fawn was filled with cowardice and fear.

And filth.

For he has learned very young that no one comes to help a fawn who cries wolf.

So he will keep the secret. Every single time.

Nick is the fawn, and his father is the wolf.

An 8 year cycle, up until his 14th birthday, continues until a buck truly larger than life stumbles in on the feeding.

The buck is trapped staring into a pair of dying headlights.

 

* * *

 

 

" _No_."

There is a moment of shocked silence. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.

The wolf, staring derangedly at the wide eyed uncle, has his victim pinned beneath him. His icy eyes are wild and feral, lips drawn back as he pulls away from his meal's hollowed body.

"Peter." The wolf snarls through grit teeth. His claws are stained red with Nick's blood, his fangs are jagged and gnarled from the struggle Nick once put up, and his belly is full with his own son's innocence.

An animal.

There is nothing human to a blue eyed, bastardized wolf such as he.

And his fawn lays there underneath his warped shadow.

Nick has mastered the art of playing possum. He is limp. His mind is somewhere other than this room, this home, this world. His foggy blue eyes are dazed and unseeing.

He does not notice the emptiness.

He does not notice the lack of sickly heat that comes with the end of the feasting.

Maybe it's for the best that nothing can pull him from his catatonic state for now.

He is as good as dead to his father in these moments, in this old pastel blue nursery. He knows that's exactly how his father likes it.

Dead and numb and compliant.

The stillness of shock evaporates from the opposing men all too quickly.

"Peter, this ain't what it looks like."

"Like hell it ain't."

Fists balled. Anger swelling deep in his guts.

Pete wasn't a man to let anger cloud his judgement.

This is the one time he will let himself be blinded by sheer fury.

So the buck to rears himself onto his hind legs.

"Pete-"

Pete will never let the wolf speak another word.

Never again will he snarl in the buck's presence.

Never again will the wolf touch the mangled fawn.

The buck dives in. Pete strikes.

Hooves against a wolves jaw, a fist shattering the profile of a pedophile.

It's amazing how quick the wolf falls, and how the quiet the forest becomes. The wooden floor creaks underneath the wolf's weight.

Pete strikes again.

The blood of a monster covers his knuckles.

And he strikes again

He would never stop striking until he was sure the bastard was dead.

A doe runs in and screams at the sight.

A fawn cries as his fleeting soul is forced back into his battered body.

The buck strikes again.

 

* * *

 

 

Animal control- bathed in red and blue lights- carry away the dying wolf, and drive him off into the horizon. Never to be seen again, Pete hopes.

The sun is setting in the forest. Snow blankets the roads as an ambulance speeds to the hospital. A family of deer cry together.

"Nick? Nicki?"

Pete holds Nick in a thick blanket, rocking him slightly.

The boy sobs into Pete's chest, curling in on himself.

"It hurts."

"I know, son, I know."

"I didn't want it."

"I'm so sorry, Nick."

"I'm not a good boy, Uncle Pete."

"Shh.. shh..."

And Nick cries.

He cries through the rape kit.

He cries through the mental evaluation.

He cries as after his court testimony.

And Pete is always there to hold him as the boy cries out years of pain and trauma into his sweater.

"The worst is over, son, I promise."

The boy grips onto Pete shirt and nods silently.

The wolf receives a heavier sentence than anticipated.

Nick is given the relief not many survivors will ever receive.

A breeze runs through the forest. The icy chill plaguing the deer family uplifts slightly.

The buck releases a held breath and sighs.

 

* * *

 

 

Nick is 17 now.

3 years have passed, and the name of the wolf has never been spoken in his presence or in the forest he dwells in.

Sitting at the edge of a crystalline riverbank, he skips rocks with another fawn he has come to call his love.

They laugh.

And talk.

And dance on the silty sand like the wolf had never touched Nick's person to begin with.

He had stopped being an affectionate person after the years spent in the wolf's den.

But, for the first time, he allows the soft eyed fawn boy of his to kiss him on the lips.

And they laugh so lightly like young children overflowing with puppy love.

Pete watches from the edge of the forest.

Relief fills him.

The buck smiles.


End file.
